


Sometimes History Takes Things Into It's Own Hands

by spacesweaters



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Foggy crushing on Matt, Highschool AU, M/M, its pretty cute, like hardcore crushing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-05 20:38:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6722512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesweaters/pseuds/spacesweaters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a new student at Foggy's high school, and he can't take his eyes off of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Mr. Nelson?"

"Mr. Nelson."

"Mr. Nelson!"

Shit.

My head shoots up from my desk in record time, "Yes?' I say, my voice obvious with sleep. "If you could kindly not snore through my lessons," Mr. Owlsley said in his signature tone that every student recognized as the going-to-make-your-life-a-living-hell-voice, "You might be able to hold a steady grade in my class." The entire room erupted in laughter, and I felt my face go hot. "Y-yes, sorry sir," I stuttered, wanting to curl up in a ball on the spot and disappear. That was really fucking stupid. Ugh.

"As I was saying before Mr. Nelson interrupted me,' Mr. Owlsley said, taking an agonizingly long pause to glare in my direction, "We have a new student," he said gesturing a boy I hadn't noticed by his side. 

He was short for a highschooler, thin, his dark brown hair in a half wavy flop on his head, and was - Well, he was hot. His face was flawless, like something right out of a work of art. He wore an old grey sweatshirt about two times his size that read 'Fogwell's Gym' in faded letters on the front. It's long sleeves hung loose around his hands which were pilled high with books. His eyes were covered by a pair of rectangular tinted black glasses, but I bet they were perfect too. I really hoped it wasn't too obvious I was staring, but I just couldn't help it. 

While I was mesmerized by the boy in front of me, I guess I didn't put two and two together that he had to sit somewhere, and that the only open seat in the class was right next to me. Shit. This was gonna go just great. I shoved a loose strand of hair back behind my ear, pretending I was the king of the heterosexuals or something, instead of crushing on a guy like a 13 year old girl. But in my defense, he was a REALLY hot guy.

I turned back to my notes, trying very hard to focus on whatever Mr. Owlsley was rambling on about today, but my eyes kept betraying me and drifting over to stare at the boy. I found myself studying his features, the perfect angle of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way he cocked his head slightly when he was listening to the teacher talk. God, I sound like one of those bad romance novel characters who sparkles in the sun or some shit. Suddenly, he smirked, and tuned to look right at me. 

Shit. 

Oh, shit.

Abort mission.

I turned away quickly, very obviously turning pink. The boy's smile just widened and he adjusted his glasses. Oh shit, that was cute. That was really fucking cute.

Before I could dig myself into any deeper of a hole, the bell rang. Thank God for that bell. I booked it out of the classroom to my next period, which unluckily for me, was gym. If I was honest with myself (which I hardly am) anything is better than making a mess of myself in front of a guy. Especially a hot one.


	2. Chapter 2

In retrospect, the boys locker room wasn't the best place to try and avoid gay thoughts. 

I pulled on the uniform shorts and a T-shirt and made it out of there as fast as I could. Trying to stop my eyes from wandering towards the half naked boys around me. What was the expression? Out of the frying pan, and into the fire? Well, I might as well just fallen into a fucking volcano. 

As I left the locker room, I saw a great big black and red mat spread out on the gym floor. 

Wrestling. 

Fuck.

I'm not really good at any sports, but wrestling, was one of my worst. Well- I could do it, and if I really tried I bet I could be pretty good too, but I don't like hurting people for fun, or exercise in general to be honest. 

Wrestling, whoop de fucking do. 

"Boys, sit on the bleachers and wait for your name to be called," Mr. Yoshioka called, well, it was more of a scream straight out of an angry drill sergeant's mouth than a call. Everyone was scared of him, so they always did exactly what he said. Even if they absolutely hated it, which everyone usually did. 

He paced back and forth in front of the bleachers, like a caged tiger who was trying to decide which one of us he was going to devour first, "You," he called, pulling a boy up from the front row and reading off the name on his uniform, "Matt Murdock."

It was him.

The-new-kid-who-happened-to-look-like-a-fucking-work-of-art-who-I-may-or-may-not-be-crazy-gay-for.

He made his way up to the mat, stumbling slightly when he reached it, like a cat that had just fallen off of a shelf and was trying to walk away pretending nothing had happened. It was pretty damn cute. 

"And you, Brett." 

Oh no. 

Brett was the biggest guy in our grade. Tall, muscular, captain of the football team, the whole package. As he approached the mat, it was hard not to notice how he towered over Matt, his dark, broad shoulders blocking Matt's figure as he passed him to reach the other side of the mat. Mr. Yoshioka knew exactly what he was doing, paring up a new kid with the captain of the wrestling team. God, if he wasn't a teacher, I would punch him in his stupid face for this. 

This Murdock kid was so fucking dead. 

Before I knew what was happening, the whistle blew and they were off. Brett circled around Matt, trying to find the best angle to attack from, but Matt just smirked. It wasn't the same smirk he gave me when he noticed my face going bright red, or when he noticed me staring. It was wild, and dangerous, yet somehow more sure. 

Brett rushed towards Matt from his right, reaching out his hands trying to push Matt off his balance, but Matt's smirk just widened. His feet moved lightning fast as he dodged Brett's attack and grabbed Brett's outstretched arms, pinning them to his chest before sending him flying, face first onto the mat. His smirked widened as he stood victoriously over Brett, lifting his hands off of Brett's back to let him stand up again. 

Should I be turned on by this?

No. I am NOT turned on by this.

Well, maybe a little.

Shit.

Everytime someone was called up, they were sent right back down on the mat within a matter of seconds by Matt. Holy shit, he was attractive like this. His forehead covered in sweat, his hair a mess, the determined smirk on his mouth only growing wider and wider with every victory. 

"Nelson."

You have got to be fucking kidding me. 

I stood up and began walking towards the mat, terrified. I was about to have my ass handed to me on a silver platter and simultaneously embarrass myself in front of everyone in class, including Matt. Great. Wrestling. Whoop de fucking do. 

I stood across from Matt, and the whistle blew. I began carefully circling around him like I had watched Brett do, more trying to defend myself than attack him. The weird thing was, he wasn't trying to attack me. His smirk was gone, and in its place was a blank expression. Impossible to see through, impossible to decipher, and impossible to look away. Without thinking, I launched myself forward, and something even weirder happened. He didn't try to defend himself. I don't know how I knew how, but I wrapped my lag around his, pulling it out from under him and shoved him hard to the floor, pinning him under me on the floor of the mat. 

Holy shit.

I had just wrestled a guy, attacked him, and pinned him to the ground. And he let me win. Well, at least I assume so. He just as easily could have switched it on me at the last second, but he didn't. So that means- a HOT GUY let me pin him to the ground. No, I'm not thinking straight. Well, its hard to think straight when you aren't but- OH SHIT I'M STILL ON TOP OF HIM.

I shot up like a rocket, and he stood up too, his smirk returning to his face. But not the one filled with determination, and that set a wild look in his eyes. "Why'd you do that?' I said. Oh god what the hell did I just do? What the hell did he just do? He shrugged, pushing his dark floppy mess of hair that revealed hints of red and orange when it caught in the light, out of his face. The bell rang before he could say anything.

Saved by the bell again. Thank god for that bell. 

I rushed to the locker room and quickly changed back into my jeans and T-shirt, ignoring my frantic heart, still beating at a million miles an hour. 

As I tried to push out the door, Matt came up behind me, "I was just going to say, I- I didn't want to hurt you." 

My face felt on fire, as I nodded and left as soon as I could. 

10/10 Foggy, great job. Just the most perfect fucking reaction there ever was. I'm fucking number one at hiding a crush. And well, maybe he is too. Maybe he let me win because- you know what, lets just stay out of that thought. I'm sure he meant to say that in the most heterosexual way possible. 'Yo man, I didn't want to hurt you even though I just met you, and I noticed you were obviously attracted to me and just smiled, but no homo dude.' Ugh. I really really hope that I don't have to see him any more than homeroom and gym, because if I do I might just fall in love or some shit. Please just let him be a total d-bag so I can get over all this...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I was just wondering how you guys want me to continue this fanfic. Should I fluffy romance immediately? Should I build up a relationship gradually? Should I friendship then oops-we-may-or-may-not-have-confessed-to-each-other-we-love-each-other-and-now-its-complicated? You decide!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about all the swearing, thats just what my inner monologue is like. So I figured, why not make it Foggy's too?
> 
> (yes, I did use a Thurgood Marshall quote for the title, good job, you're very observant)
> 
> Also, if you didn't know, Mr. Owlsley is Leland Owlsley, Wilson Fisk's financial assistant. I'm going to try and write most of the characters in here, either as students or teachers. 
> 
> Sorry this first chapter was so short, I'll try and make the rest of them longer.


End file.
